Disclaimer: Obviously Harry Potter does not belong to me. Nor do any of the characters, or any of J.K. Rowling's talent. At the moment, this fic has a relatively low rating, but this will almost certainly go up in later chapters. Also, I would like to make it clear that there will be no underage relationships in this fic - although it may seem like that's going to happen at the beginning. If the characters do begin a relationship, they will both be overage (16 where I live).

Oh, and just a warning - this is likely to be quite complicated. I don't want to explain it, because that would spoil the story, but don't expect a simple plot.

I think that's all - my chapters are usually quite short, so I hope you enjoy them :) Reviews are loved!

Death Comes Upon The Heroes

When the student first entered the classroom, Severus Snape's carefully composed expression almost cracked. Those were her eyes, right there, and the face they were set in… He gripped the front of his desk as he felt the world shifting beneath his feet. Surely it was his imagination, he thought, because there was no way, no way on earth, that Ellen could be sitting there looking back at him.

Chapter One

He'd met her when he was just sixteen, struggling with the pressures of being a Slytherin at a time when the Dark Lord was gaining power. The lure of chaos was too much for him, just as it was for many of his classmates. They had died in the darkness. Only through a chance meeting, some carefully placed words, and a very… distracting Occlumency teacher had he survived.

It was simply a matter of being in the right place at the right time. Still too young to move out, he'd taken to sleeping out in the woods from time to time during the holidays. He had no friends to speak of, no-one to stay with. His parents barely spoke to each other, and when they did, they swore more than they actually spoke. He'd given up on them long ago. All things considered, the woods seemed the safest place for him.

There was a river running through the trees, sluggish and filthy. Mouldering willows sagged over the water's edge, observing their decaying reflections with a quiet despair. The leaves were falling prematurely this year - as the Dark Lord's power grew, nature cringed away. There were no birds, no animal sounds to disturb him. It was the closest thing to a 'happy place' he had.

That day, the sky was pale grey with dawn. He had his battered, second-hand copy of A History of Magic, but it failed to captivate him as it once had. Life was duller, darker, and not really worth living since he'd lost Lily.

He put the book down, wincing as the sound disturbed the silence, and stood up. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd left the house the previous evening, and his stomach was beginning to protest. Used to the hunger pangs, however, he set off on a brisk walk, scuffing up old leaves and shaking the leaden tiredness from his legs.

He almost walked past her that first time. She blended in perfectly with the trees around her, curled up in the leaf mould like a lost child. A chill came over him - for all his bravado in the presence of the other Slytherins, the killings he encountered still horrified him. This girl could've been dumped here, or even killed less than a mile from his own front door. He fell to his knees next to her, touched her face. To his intense relief, she was warm, and he saw her chest rising and falling.

Her eyes flickered open.